Seed of Stars Read Online Free PDF Page B

Quat, who had paused momentarily for breath. "I disagree, Phunim. Discipline could very easily go to pieces in that way. Not immediately, of course, but over a period of time, if rank differences were too great, then it would be bound to suffer. After all, there are some who think that between a chief petty officer, for example, and a GD crewwoman the gap is already too great; imagine, for instance, the possible consequences of such a relationship between a lieutenant and a crewwoman, even a leading crewwoman."
    "A harmless association for mutual relief," suggested Quat, blandly.
    "Ah, but harmless . . . there's the rub," persisted Trudi. "Who is to tell when such an arrangement might become something more than merely an association providing mutual satisfaction and develop into a more personal one? And once that happens, what price your disciplinary structure then?"
    Watching the coldly attractive features of Trudi, Piet was gripped with a panic that filled his throat Trudi was looking away, avoiding his eye—but there had to be something more than mere coincidence behind her words. She wasn't addressing him directly, but she was, in her coldly oblique manner, giving him a warning that she knew about his relationship with Mia—a warning, and a threat The questions now must be, how much did she know? And what was she going to do about it?
    "... the medical viewpoint on such an assertion?"
    Piet was jostled out of his concentration by the tag end of Lieutenant Quat's question. He stared stupidly for a moment into the beaming moon-face. "I'm sorry —I wasn't listening. What was that again?"
    But before Quat had time to repeat his query, Trudi had taken the initiative. Her smile was hard as beryllium steel alloy as she looked directly across the table at Piet and said: "My dear Phunim, there's no point in asking Lieutenant Huygen's opinion on such matters. Hell merely prescribe a course of pills, and I'm sure you'd rather not take that way out of your dilemma."
    Piet smiled weakly in response to the general laughter and got up out of his chair. As he hurried out of the mess he was aware of the steady gaze of Trudi's pale-blue eyes and the threat that lay behind them.

    Petty Officer Herbert Dockridge was an anomaly. Officially classified as unfit for active space service because of his badly repaired leg, he had been included in the crew of Venturer Twelve only on the personal request of Commander Bruce. Dockridge had been his personal orderly and occasional confidant for over five
    years and as such Bruce apparently found him indispensable. Dockridge's official position would have been difficult to define, strictly according to regulations; he worked as Lindstrom's orderly as well as Brace's, but over and above such duties, he kept his finger on the pulse of what was being felt aboard ship, as opposed to what was being said and being ordered. Such a position would have been an ideal one for a first-class fink, but Dockridge was nothing of that sort. He was capable of keeping his mouth shut, and he had enormous tact. In ratifying his appointment, Psyche Department had given some consideration to the fact that Doc was one of those rare and valuable people who have a natural gift for easing frictions between personalities. If officers like Bruce and Lindstrom were the controlling gears of the organization that was the crew of Venturer Twelve, then Dockridge was, by the same analogy, the oil that smoothed the operation of that organization. The men of the crew respected his experience and tact, and to the women, particularly the younger ones, he functioned as something of an uncle/ father-confessor figure. Everyone knew him with his gorblimey voice, his terrier face and his slight limp.
    He came up behind Mia as she was checking a junction box near the main elevator at eighth level. "Hello, Far Eastern. What yer doing GD electrics job for? You're radar, ain't you? Laborer's job, this."
    Mia turned her head and smiled at him.